Six nurses

This particular story might be mildly embarrassing to my cousin Grace's two kids, E and G. It shouldn't be. It really is the backdrop to some of the language we use in our house so I am obligated to put it in.

Like Grace, I'm a proponent of breastfeeding as long as the child wants to have it. I never had the weaning horrors that some people go through. And I know that I'm totally blessed to have had the opportunity and family support to allow my kids to self wean. For my kids, they nursed about 2 years, which means that they were talking some before they stopped breastfeeding. Grace's kids were at the breast a year or two longer. I applaud her patience and devotion to nursing them. (Look at me trying to be all diplomatic against the people who would judge breastfeeding kids. Oh, get over yourself if it is a problem for you. Breasts make food for babies. The perfect food for babies. So there.)

Grace and her husband Jim tell a story about a friend of theirs who breast fed their kids after the kids started speaking. Their friend's child was running around in toddler fashion, and when he became thirsty, he went up to his mother and asked, "Boob?"

From that moment on, Grace and Jim vowed never to be asked for boobs (especially in public) by a hungry child. Instead they taught their kids to refer to their milk dispensers as "nurses." That way if the child wanted to eat, she'd simply ask ,"nurse?" How sweet is that?

The age difference between Grace's two kids is about 8 years, so when G was 4 or 5, E was just starting out that wonderful phase of life:  puberty. Imagine her horror when her little brother inadvertently walked in on her taking a shower and G ran off to report to his parents that E indeed had nurses too! (okay, that last bit wasn't probably necessary to tell my story but still funny, right?)

The lesson from those two stories stuck with Hubby and me, especially when we had our son. We did not want our precious boy's first word to be "boobs." We made a decision to copy Grace and Jim's example and refer to my breasts as nurses.

It's been a word we've used ever since we became parents and it is fully entrenched in our lives. I suppose it can be confusing considering how many registered nurses we have in our family. Amongst my first cousins, I think we have a total of 10. We are a good Filipino family that way -- we make quality health care professionals -- we love our nurses.

The other day, my mother was remarking about how her brother Efren, who spent most of his adult life working in Hawaii and sending money back home for his family in the Philippines, was able to send 6 of his kids to college for their degrees in nursing.

My mom said, "Can you believe your Uncle Efren has six nurses?"

I said, "Wow, that's really impressive."

Lil'T looked absolutely flummoxed. "Uncle Efren has six nurses?!? What the hoonies???" (hoonies = heck for preschoolers)

It took me a beat to realize that Lil'T was trying to figure out how Uncle Efren had so many breasts under his shirt. How the heck did he get the bras? Must be a Costco pack. And since when did men have breasts like Holly our dog? Oh so confusing!

Maybe we ought to refer to breasts as boobs after all.

Broken Legs 2

Turns out that my audio acting debut is uploaded now. It is episode 302, The Sword of Damocles: Part II "The Pursuit."

My lines are in a teaser trailer after the credits. In fact, they say my name a few moments before you even hear my voice. I'm listed as one of the pilots. Woohoo!

Go ahead and have a listen.

57 flavor Phad Thai

*Disclaimer:  This post is not a request for phad thai recipes or where I can get better ones. I actually have a pretty good phad thai recipe that I didn't use because I hadn't gotten all the ingredients. This was my Iron Chef moment.

Somehow, like most weekends, the time had gotten away from me and all of a sudden, it was 6 p.m. I needed to get dinner ready or the kids would be late for bed making them grumpy and whiny in the morning.  That also means that my alone time, that precious kidless time from their bedtime to our bedtime evaporates. That leads to patience-reserve-on-empty parenting. You see how everything snowballs? All because I didn't start prepping dinner at 4:30 p.m.

I looked in my fridge at that late hour and saw that I had all the ingredients for a quickie phad thai, the first recipe I had ever tried -- one that was most certainly posted by somebody who doesn't have easiest access to tamarind  or dried shrimp or even tofu. It called for ingredients like vinegar, tomato paste, sugar and fish sauce. I did remember that it was quick and easy. Considering my time crunch, I thought it would be a good dinner.

I soaked the noodles, heated the oil for the meat and garlic, and then went rummaging for the tomato paste and vinegar. It was then that I realized that the pantry staple of tomato paste was missing from my arsenal. Totally unfair! I already had the noodles soaking.

It was then that inspiration struck me. Ketchup. Catsup. However you spell it, organic ketchup has listed as its top three ingredients:  tomato paste, vinegar & sugar. Hazzah! Dinner was saved with a little bit of ingenuity. I ended up thinning out the catsup with a little bit of water. Surprisingly, it turned out a passable, edible, even delightful phad thai.

My apologies to any thai people out there.

Go Fish

This topic has come to me. It's bugging me. I've decided to address it. It is controversial and will likely label me as a heretic (which isn't a title I necessarily reject).

I have a lot of Christian friends. Not just Catholic, but Christian friends. Some of them born again and some that belong to other religious faiths. Really, it is near impossible not to have Christian friends here in the US. I'm writing today to talk about 2 of my pet peeves with modern Christians:  1. Asking me if I "prayed about it," and 2. Quoting scripture.

The thing is, I think both of those things really shut communication down.

Let's examine the first.

Say I'm talking to a friend about some annoying habit my kids have. So many to pick from...hmmm...  How about fighting with their siblings? That's common and a constant noise in my house. The boy picks on his sisters and his sisters antagonize him. It is a constant drone of sibling rivalry here in the Haddon home. So I might be sharing the latest play by ridiculous play with a friend of mine when out of the blue she says, "So have you prayed on it?"

That one sentence is a show stopper. Why? Because if it is a real question, it is as if something on my face or my demeanor says that I have not spoken to my God about it. What if I have? What if I haven't? What business is it of yours? And plus, what kind of response is exactly being elicited here?

"Yes, in fact, I spoke to God about it yesterday and He went on and on about spare the rod and spoil the child. Also that I might want to consider selling my son into slavery. Might decrease some of the conflict at home."

Really?

Or maybe, "No, why don't we have a prayer session right now? Because clearly, since I'm still having these lingering problems I am probably not praying right. Never had complaints from God before, but maybe with your guidance, my point can get across to our creator."

Does that sound too snarky?

Maybe it is only meant as a reminder to talk to God about it. But even then, who are you to give me such a reminder? Have you looked into my brain or heart and discovered me lacking? Have you yourself talked to our Lord was told, "Wow, that's the first I've heard Tess talk about that!" I'm thinking probably not.

I don't know what to say to the question, although I'm tempted in giving my most honest and non-snarky response.

"Sorry, I don't talk about my conversations with my God with other people. Your question suggests to me that you don't want to hear about my problems. Sorry to have bothered you. "

While the place where the question comes from is likely sincere and truly, truly meant to be loving, it isn't. At least not to me. It is a way to say, "Hey, you need to talk to God because talking to me does no good at all. Even if all you want is a sympathetic ear. Even if all you want is validation that you're not the only parent who feels like this. You need to bring that up with God and not me."

Now on to the second:  quoting scripture.

For me, it feels like nails on a chalk board. It brings back vivid memories of a debate I took part in during the 5th grade. I loved debate during class. I loved making arguments and felt pretty dominant. I remember leading the discussion on legalizing marijuana on one of those occasions. That was a great day. Then I was picked to lead a debate about women's rights. It was a total no brainer, I thought. I went into the debate armed with facts about how women were being paid 40% less than men for the exact same job if he made the argument that there was no discrimination. That women were people afforded the same rights and liberties as their male counterparts under the Constitution. My rival, a boy whose initials were J.C. (take that as you will), only had his bible. He likely got a hold of a concordance and just looked up where in the bible the subjugation of women to men appeared. I remember standing there completely disarmed. I was in Catholic school. I am a cradle Catholic. And there I was in the unenviable position of trying to argue against the bible. Now, with some knowledge under my belt, I might have argued how God chose a woman to bear His only begotten son, how Jesus first appeared to women when He rose from the dead, etc. but that day, in front of my class, my words were silenced. I couldn't think of how to argue against that.

In using quotations, the speaker is doing 2 things at the same time. They are bolstering and boasting. They bolster their statements by drawing from the words of other people of note. There is the implicit challenge that you might disagree with me, but can you disagree with Matt, Mark, Luke or John, and thereby disagree with the big boss Himself? Then there is the boasting, which may or may not be intentional. People who quote scripture show the single minded focus to memorize the bible. They become a walking concordance by memorizing where in the bible the verse is from, telling you exactly which bible verse it is, but stopping short of telling you why that particular verse is relevant. Should be completely obvious to you since you profess to love God and Jesus. See how much better they can walk the path because they have read it and recite it?

Oh man. That bugs the heck out of me.

I don't have that fever to memorize scripture. Sure, like most people, I've got my favorite verses, but you won't find me quoting them to anybody else. Maybe that makes me a bad Christian. I have my bible. I read it, probably not up to the standards of most evangelical Christians.

I'm Catholic. We have priests to read it for us.

Our legs are broken

I fell asleep last night probably around midnight. I'm reading the book Nurtureshock. If you haven't heard of it, it is one of those books that will change the way you talk to your kids. Right now I'm on the section about sibling rivalry and am astonished by it. There I go, all tangent-y. Sorry about that.

Anyway, around 1 a.m., Hubby woke me from a sound sleep and told me that he finally got an email from the producer of Starship Excelsior. Woohoo! He read me the entire email. He then retrieved my phone and read me the email that also accepted me to the Starship Excelsior cast. I admit, I was pretty excited to hear all of this, albeit rather groggy. I fell back asleep to dreams of Star Trek podcast stardom. Or at least bit parts.

Then this morning my son reminded me of what date it is. That's right people. April 1st. The boy is lying in wait for his sister to come home from a playdate to give her some fake (but non-poisonous) chocolate milk. Realization hit me that my husband might have been waiting until after midnight to give me the fake news that we were bound for stardom.

The jerk!

I ran downstairs and demanded he show me these alleged emails from the producer of Star Trek Excelsior. Well, turns out I should have trusted my man. Here is my acceptance letter.

Hello!

I'm James Heaney. I executive produce Star Trek: Excelsior (assuming "executive produce" is syntactical, which I assure you it is not. "Executively produce," maybe. But not "executive produce." Anyhow, I've already digressed). We received your audition last week, and it's been sitting in my inbox ever since waiting for a spare evening when I'd have a chance to listen to it.

That evening was tonight. Long story short, it was a fine audition. I like your voice, I like your microphone, and female voice actors are always in short supply on Excelsior. In short, I'm grateful to you for taking the plunge and sending in your audition. And I'm pleased to tell you that you "passed."

What happens next is, we put you on our directory list. Your name will sit there waiting for a part to open up that we believe fits your voice better than any other on the list (this usually takes a number of months). Since Excelsior usually has its main characters at least six months before an episode is released, the first roles to open up will almost definitely be very minor parts. If you do a good job with those smaller parts, and get your lines done on time, you'll remain in the cast rotation indefinitely. It'll be great.

Now, of course, most people who audition want to ultimately land in a major role on the show. And, to be honest, most people who stay on the list long enough do eventually end up playing a significant part. But the availability of major roles is unpredictable, and really has a great deal to do with luck. My point being, I can't promise any big parts in your future. It could definitely happen, but, as with any show, the parts we are trying to fill from episode to episode are usually the bit parts. If bit parts are okay with you, though, we're looking forward to working with you! (This little disclaimer may seem silly and obvious to you, but you'd be surprised at the high casting expectations from new auditioners that we've had to deflate over the years.)

Like I said, solid voice/solid mic/female is a triple threat here at Excelsior. Thanks for sending in your audition and welcome aboard! We really couldn't do it without generous people like you volunteering to help keep the Excelsior flying!

Sincerely,
James Heaney
Executive Producer
Star Trek: Excelsior

Hubby's acceptance letter went on an on about the "reckless" willingness he has to throw himself emotively into a role. I got only the trifecta of having a good voice, good mike, and being a girl. *sigh* Truth be told though, Hubby is the one with the real talent at voice acting. He's pretty amazing.

Just wait until he gets cast as a Klingon. Knock your socks off. Kaplah!

Goalsetting with Girls

Every year it surprises me how much "anti-cookie" sentiment there exists in our community. We have brownie girl scouts out in front of grocery stores selling cookies. They have dreams of going camping, having a horse back riding adventure, painting pottery at a studio, and simply having fun. Every year my parents come back from selling cookies with stories of people berating the adults about childhood obesity, too much sugar in children's diets, & the negative message selling cookies has for our girls.

And yet we keep doing it. I don't need to re-argue the why. The Girl Scouts Organization does that far more eloquently than I can. Every year I have a cookie selling story that makes all those negative comments fade away like morning fog. Here is this year's one.

Before we launch into the cookie selling, the girls and their leaders discuss goals. For the past 2 years, my girls have been focused on going to the Great Wolf Lodge. What 8-9 year old child wouldn't want to go there? While we were setting our goals, we did some quick math finding out that we needed to sell 1444 boxes to reach that goal. This would be the year that we could raise enough money to go there overnight. Then we discussed a service project that the girls could get behind. We would participate in the usual Operation Cookie Drop which sends cookies to our troops overseas. However, we wanted something that was just our group's focus. Unfortunately, we ran out of time and the girls were charged with trying to come up with a service project by the next meeting.

The week before our next meeting, the earthquake in Haiti happened.

When we met, I thought I would ask the girls if they had heard about the Haitian earthquake. They had. The girls all had their hands up talking about their schools collecting money to send to Haiti. Each girl talked about pictures they had seen on television, or their parents had shared with them in the paper. They spoke about their ministers or priests urge for generous donations for Haitian relief over weekend. I credit our parents, schools and churches with talking to these girls and giving them their boundless capacity for compassion.

I mentioned to them that Girl Scouts and Girl Guides are everywhere in the world, including Haiti. In that moment, you could see in their eyes that they could identify with their sister girl scouts. They were so moved that one of our girls suggested we just give all our money in our bank account to Haiti. However, there was some protest at that idea, and the girls had worked so hard to save up towards their goal, we came up with a compromise. We would donate the first $1000 of our cookie proceeds towards the Haitian relief effort. I told them that we'd essentially double our cookie selling goal to almost 3000 boxes. If we didn't make our goal, we might have to postpone our trip to Great Wolf Lodge one more year. They understood.

One of my girls put it very succinctly, "they need it more."

In the intervening time, we participated in the Cascade Bicycle Club Chilly Hilly bake sale and raised $310 towards our goal. Also during the Chilly Hilly, our girls helped out at the Squeaky Wheels Bicycle Club's chili feed. That event raised $1400 for the American Red Cross. Because of our participation in that event, the organizers have given us the honor of presenting that check to the ARC. Along with our $1000, our girls have helped raise $2400 for earthquake relief efforts.

So go ahead and complain about GS selling cookies. This is what building girls of courage, confidence and character looks like.

Balls of yarn

We had a Girl Scout meeting last night. The brownie who was running the content of our meeting had us turning skeins of yarn into balls of yarn so that we'd be prepared to teach preschool potential scouts how to make yarn dolls. You would be surprised how hard it is to efficiently turn skeins of yarn into balls of yarn.

I complained, "Every time I try to go fast, I drop my ball."

My daughter said, "I'm making them half fast."

What you need to know now is that when my 9 year old brownie girl scout said that, the other parent there and I both about dropped our balls. Say the phrase "half fast" out loud and you'll see what I mean.

Then I replayed what she said and very carefully inquired, "So you're making them half (pause) fast?"

She nodded and said, "yeah, but I still drop them."

The other parent there and I about fell over laughing but the rest of the girls had no idea why.